


Rooftops

by Evanna1812



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Apartment Mates, Demisexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Librarian Stiles, Lonely Derek, M/M, New York City, Still pretty fluffy, The Hales are Alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evanna1812/pseuds/Evanna1812
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles moves to New York to be an awesome librarian. He moves in with Derek. Hot, silent Derek. You know the drill, those two personalities are so mismatched they fit perfectly. We just need the boys to realize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic ever and I've not written in years, so be kind. I will add tags as I go, if you think I've forgotten to mention stuff, tell me and I'll add it.   
> This is tagged h/c because Derek isn't exactly the healthiest person (well, when is he ever, really), he will display symptoms of depression and anxiety disorder, which I'll tag for when it becomes more relevant to the story.   
> However, this will most definitely have a happy ending 'cause I'm a sucker for fluffy shit. This is unbeta'd and probably full of mistakes, but I'm not a native, so I'll mess up, just point it out to me. Hope you enjoy :)

It starts on Craigslist. This might be redundant to say, because what doesn’t start on Craigslist, these days? Well, what living arrangement, anyways.   
Well, what living arrangement for people who apparently don’t know how to do this differently. ...What? 

Yeah, so it starts on craigslist when Stiles is looking for an apartment that he can share with someone. Sharing is caring. Yeah… I really don’t think this is what that means.  
Uh. So, it starts with Stiles searching for apartments. 

 

“Looking for clean, quiet roommate for Manh apt, 650ft²” 

 

Stiles clicks it because he believes in correct grammar. Also, the price is ok for an apartment that is exactly where he needs it to be. Also, he’s clean and quiet.   
He wipes his Dorito fingers on his pants, then runs them through his hair, eats another Dorito, lickes the back of his hand to free it of Dorito-goodness. This seems too good to be true, actually.   
But really, paranoia aside, he’s just not important enough for someone to cruelly scheme this. Scheme a cruel scheme to make Stiles Stilinski in particular follow an empty promise to New York City. Maybe it’s just the luckiest he’s ever been.   
“Daaad”, he yells down the stairs to his Dad who is sitting in the kitchen and probably working. His dad always works. He really needs Scott’s mom to watch out for him while he’s gone.  
His dad ignores him. But whatever. He’s got this. He’s 22, freaking out of college and all grown up.   
He gets in contact. 

It’s just a few weeks later that he hugs his Dad, Scott and Allison and gets in his jeep. So yeah, as far as farewell scenes go, this one is kind of anticlimactic, even though that would imply that there had ever been a build-up to anything close to a climax in Stiles’ life.   
I mean, who goes from going to High School in their small hometown to Community College in Slightly-Bigger-Town-Nearby to working in a library? Stiles, obviously. It’s not like he isn’t excited. But he’s not delusional. 

At High School Reunion in 15 years, “I work at a library” isn’t going to impress anyone. There’s people like Danny (“I went from FBI’s Most Wanted to working for them”) or Lydia (“I won the Field’s Medal while I was still in college and am now, as you all know, ruler of the earth”) or, fuck, even Jackson (“I do something cruel like killing puppies and baby seals but get a shitload of money for it and yes, you can still hate me”) Yeah. But whatever, there’s no need to always try to be as good as everyone else. Just do your own thing. And stuff. 

Also, he’s about to live in New York. New Yorkers count as cool, right? Maybe that will rub off on him and in just a year, he will be the actually cool kind of hipster who goes to poetry-slams, listens to music with insightful, relevant lyrics and can talk about Proust for hours. Yeah, that’s not actually cool in Stiles’ book. No judgment. Maybe judgment. Stiles tries to be open for all kinds of stuff, but jealousy has a tight grip on him and those who actually, really, truly enjoy Dostojewski are just smarter than Stiles and it’s hard to admit that, to himself especially.   
But yeah, whatever. Uh. He’s gonna live in New York, be cool and try to seem aloof (while actually feeling like an overexcited puppy and hoping the Craigslist guy, Derek, is not just stealing his money). He will not get robbed, he will not step into chewing gums spit on the street, he will not spill his coffee all over himself, in short; he will not be the dorky, pathetic guy he’s been all his life. 

 

So, turns out driving all across the United States is boring. Stiles has an active mind, overactive some might say. Even that can’t make hours of Nebraska landscape any more exciting. The radio in most of Iowa is shit. Singing along alone stops being fun in West Nevada. The Beauty of his surroundings can’t touch him, or make him feel small and unimportant anymore when he reaches Wyoming. It just makes his eyes tired and his head hurt. He wants this to be over.   
Once a day, normally when he’s found the motel for the night, he calls his dad. Tells him he’s fine. Tells him he’s bored. Shoots a quick text to Scott, tells him the same. Nothing happens.

Sleeping in filthy motel rooms gets old really damn fast. They make it look cool (Supernatural) or romantic (most not-sex-shaming Teen Shows/Movies) or even creepy/exciting (well… Motel).   
Really, the mattresses hurt his back, the sheets are probably freshly washed but neither smell nor look like it, the water pressure is shit and the neighbors boring.   
The food you can get while crossing the country is mediocre. Stiles is content with a good amount of curly fries, really. Just… Nobody will make him curly fries. Neither is he able to find a decent burger. So he settles for healthy food, because, you know, because. 

Stiles almost cries when he arrives in New Jersey. 

He actually cries when he arrives in New York. 

It’s 50% pure exhaustion (driving alone for four and a half days will do that to you) and 50% childish disappointment. He knows the Statue of Liberty is on the other side of the city, but he was still hoping it’d be the first thing he’d see upon arriving. It’s not. It’s just houses.   
No highly symbolic torch leading the way to his new life, his new beginning. Though, that wouldn’t even really fit his situation. He’s not desperately running away from Beacon Hills. He’d just kind of thought he didn’t want to die having seen nothing but. He wants the culture shock. 

He doesn’t want any of the clichés, though. Really, no mugging, please. 

Yeah, so maybe he doesn’t want the culture shock. Sue him, who wants anything that has the word “shock” in it? (Except for maybe, like, shockingly good sex, which Stiles is really hoping to have once he’s proven his Awesome to New York City).   
New York traffic is shit. That’s the first cliché he realizes is true. He’s in traffic for hours. Literally. Well, almost literally; way fucking longer than he wants to be stuck in traffic, either way. 

There are yellow cabs everywhere and the yellow is too bright for his tired eyes. God, he just wants to sleep for a week straight. He’s not as young as he used to be, for fuck’s sake.   
People cross the street in front of his car, pretending it’s his job to watch out for them (HE KNOWS IT IS, okay? It’s still freaking irritating.) 

Okay. 

Maybe Stiles needs to calm down. It’s Sunday, his new roommate had said he’d be at the apartment to let him in, give him keys, explain the rules. He wants to make a good first impression, and if he keeps this up, he’ll blow up at the person he is going to share his living space with for the next, like, months, which is so not how he’ll achieve his goal. Of a good first impression.

FUCKING DAMNIT RED LIGHT AGAIN?!?!?

The closer he gets, though, the more nervous he gets, too. Not only does he have way too much time to work himself into anxious fidgeting, he has way too much fucking reason, too.  
He’d never even seen his new roommate. Derek Hale. They’d only spoken on the phone. 

“Hey how about we skype and you give me a tour?” Stiles had asked.   
“Don’t have Skype.” Derek had replied in his, what Stiles kind of hoped and also kind of feared was his regular tone.   
Hoped, because that meant it wasn’t Stiles in particular that Derek was annoyed with.   
Feared, because even if his Dad’s friend’s background check hadn’t come up with anything threatening about Derek Hale, he could still be a serial killer.   
Actually, if the background check had come up empty, he probably was a very proficient serial killer. Stiles was too young to die! He was too young to be brutally murdered. Well. Everyone is too young to be brutally murdered but… 

“You should totally get Skype, then, dude. It’s free and really cool for staying in touch with friends that live all around the world and I sound like I’m reading from a Skype advertisement, don’t I?”   
“Well, getting Skype would require getting a laptop first and no, thanks” Derek had said coolly and what? The dude doesn’t own a computer?   
“Holy shit, people need a laptop these days. How old are you even? In that first mail you said you were 28 and your voice sounds 28 but dude, believing that laptops are the devil’s device is more like 82!”   
He’d heard Derek sigh over the line. Then there were a few moments of silence, but Stiles was pretty sure he could hear Derek breathe deeply, as if to collect himself.   
“Stiles”, he’d then said and his voice had been dangerously sweet. Stiles mouth had gone dry. Derek sounded hot. Like, phone-sex operator hot. Like, seriously, I can make you cream your pants with a few whispered words hot.  
“Yeah”, he’d all but choked out and then coughed awkwardly.   
“You wanna live here. You stop criticizing my life choices right now or you can look for another cheap, clean apartment near Ottendorfer.”   
And his voice had been soft, winding around the words like liquid silk. Soft and dangerous and wow, Stiles seemed to really get off on that. 

~~~

Derek doesn’t want a roommate. He doesn’t need one. He can afford the apartment just fine. Shit, you write one fantasy trilogy with a love triangle that your Creative Writing class teacher urges you to continue after reading the first chapter, it gets turned into a movie with attractive actors and you’re basically done. You can live a quiet, humble life without ever having to work again.   
And then, along comes your sister, tells you to go out, live, do stuff. That’s what being young is for. You say no. She calls your mom. Your mom calls you on the verge of tears, tells you she wants you to be happy. Wants you to enjoy life to the fullest, get to know people. 

And all of a sudden, you find yourself placing an ad on a website. Clearing out your guestroom. Inviting some young, gullible guy to live with you.

Derek feels like he has never made a decision on his own.   
His parents never pressured him, but they educated him in a way that made him want to be a smart kid in school. They encouraged him to write, to enter contests for young authors. That got him a scholarship to Columbia.   
His parents told him there was no way anyone could throw away that opportunity, so he went, majored in English and Comparative Literature.   
He'd had a girlfriend in College. She was opinionated, a little controlling, made him go to the gym. She told him only buff guys were attractive. He worked out until he was hit on constantly, and the lines were super lame, too. After a few weeks of dating, Derek was mostly just confused. He didn’t really know how relationships were supposed to go. He’d never really had the desire to be in a relationship with anyone in high school, had had many friends but none were close enough for him to want them, to make the decision. 

One night Derek and Kate, the girlfriend, spent together, she climbed into his lap and kissed him hard. Told him to stop playing “the good boy”, that she wasn’t a “delicate little flower”. Derek hadn’t actually thought about sex very much. He felt like they didn’t even know each other, yet. But that had probably been very high school of him. In college, you fuck people, no big deal, we’ve all done it before, right.   
Derek hadn’t. When she took his clothes off, he didn’t mind. When she took hers off, it was ok. It didn’t rock his world. So his erection had been inside of another person. Ok. 

Pretty much directly after, Kate had made the decision to end the relationship.   
He said ok, sat in front of his computer and worked on the story he’d been writing. Showed it to his professor. 

The professor had insisted it was good, he should keep at it. He did. 

The professor had told him he should send it to an agent. He did. 

His publisher had requested a trilogy. He wrote it. 

His publisher advised him to sell the rights to the story so a movie could be made. He got rich. 

His real name wasn’t known. He refused interviews. He didn’t want to be in the media, didn’t want to explain the characters to the actors. It was about the story, not him. 

He’d become somewhat of a recluse until his family decided that he definitely needed a roommate. 

Derek has never made a decision in his entire life. And that is ok. 

Until his doorbell rings and a boy stands on his threshold.   
“Ugh, finally. Sorry, not you, obviously, it took you like 5 seconds to get to the door. Finally I’m here, I mean. Finally I have it confirmed; this apartment actually exists, holy shit, I was so scared you’d just taken my money and run. You haven’t, have you? You’re Derek Hale, right? You know that I’m your roommate, that I was supposed to arrive today, nobody just kind of used your identity and I’m barging in on an unsuspecting guy? Right? I’m Stiles, which you know, because we talked on the phone. If I talked to you. Which I really hope I did, because, dude, you mentioned a bed and I’m about to die. Driving is exhausting, you know how it is. Uh. Dude, just interrupt me. I can keep going forever. Like, my best friend always calls me-“. 

Derek takes a deep breath. 

“Come in”, is all he can think to say, steps aside and watches as Stiles drags his messenger bag into the apartment. 

Stiles is tall and lean, has brown, messy hair and a boyish face. His eyes literally sparkle. Derek has read that in books, eyes that sparkle. Those are not books he admits to reading. And he never actually believed in that sparkling eyes shit.   
But Stiles’ eyes do sparkle. They are light brown and look so fucking alive that just seeing them basically gives Derek a headache.   
Stiles eyebrows are dark and strong, his skin pale and dotted with moles and his cheeks are flushed slightly.   
He looks so healthy and alive.   
Shit.   
Stiles is probably one of these popular, attractive guys. Loads of people are probably really into him. Derek is going to have to listen to his roommate having sex all the time.   
And Stiles is going to think Derek is the dullest person that ever lived, which, yeah…

“Uh, so can you just show me my room? And nice to meet you in person, shit I forgot that. Uhm.” Stiles seems slightly thrown off by Derek’s silence, which isn’t surprising for someone who talks so much. 

Derek jerks his head in the direction of his guestroom, now Stiles’ room. Shit.   
He’s not prepared for this. He’s going to have to ask Laura to come. To help him out of this situation. He can’t have a roommate. He can’t let someone else see him on a daily basis, notice his patterns, his diet and shit, he really can’t have a panic attack in front of Stiles. 

He tries to calm himself when he lets Stiles pass him, walk into his new room, look at everything. Stiles turns around to him and smiles. He’s got a nice smile, sweet and kind. Derek feels ashamed that his own lips don’t mirror Stiles’. 

“This is really awesome, dude. I was really worried, shit you can’t imagine how relieved I am right now. Uh. Are you ok, you look pale?” 

Derek is not good with people. Laura knows that. His mom should know that. She probably doesn’t, though, doesn’t realize just how little practice he’s had over the last few years.   
“I’m fine.” Derek breathes again. Shit, he can go grocery shopping. He can deal with a young guy who wants to know where the bathroom in his new apartment is.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone in the comments told me that derek orders online on his non-existent computer. so I kind of clumsily fixed that.

Derek doesn’t talk. That’s fine. Stiles can deal with quiet people. 

Except that he can’t. 

He’s freaking out. Derek does not want him here. That much is obvious. Derek hates Stiles breathing his air, he hates Stiles occupying his space, he hates the sound of Stiles walking around and he probably hates every single mole on Stiles’ body.  
And Stiles’ stupid nose, because let’s be real; someone as hot as Derek must hate the facial features of people even slightly less attractive than himself. 

Okay, so he might be exaggerating. A bit. But this is really freaking Stiles out. He doesn’t understand what he did that made Derek be so aloof and annoyed at him. 

Sure, Derek’s shown him around (there really wasn’t much showing around to do, honestly, the apartment isn’t huge) but he’s barely said a work while doing it. 

And Stiles is actually good at talking, really. He can ramble on for hours and hours. But he needs some feedback, some sign of “I hear you, I’m with you”. He can’t talk to someone completely unresponsive.  
Nothing he could say comes to his mind, even though he knows there are thousands of things you can say to your new cohabitant. But they all just fled his brain. So after asking, like, three questions (“Do you have any rules or something, about food and stuff?”, to which Derek replied with an eloquent “Nah” and a great imitation of a frowny face), he’s desperately out of things to say and awkwardly shuffling his feet. 

Derek passes him a key, nods stiffly and goes to his room.  
So Stiles is left to get his bags from his jeep, which is no fun in the humid summer heat of New York City, and try to not cry. 

Ok, so he knew he was romanticizing the whole “living in New York” thing, but seriously, who can blame him after all the sitcoms about cool friends in pretty (and pretty huge) apartments? And yeah, he’d been kind of dreaming about becoming his new housemate’s best friend and always going to the same coffee shop and bar and always picking up pretty girls and handsome guys. 

Let a guy dream.

Yeah, so anyways, doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen anytime soon with Derek. 

When Stiles is kind of done unpacking (well not really done, but you know, he’s, uh… He’s started, you’re not his mom, jeez), he texts Scott and complains. 

Stiles to Scott: Dude, emergency :(

Scott answers pretty much immediately, which makes Stiles realize that he’s been waiting for Stiles to text, so he shoots off a text to his Dad just to tell him he’s arrived ok. 

Scott to Stiles: Omg what???? Was it a scam? Are you homeless?????

Stiles to Scott: No. But my roommate hates me :(((

Scott to Stiles: Jesus, Stiles, you’ve had like half an hour, what did you do?

Stiles to Scott: Thanks so much, asshole, I didn’t do anything. He just decided to hate me!!! 

Scott to Stiles: Why would you think that? You can’t have been there for very long?

Stiles to Scott: He won’t talk to me.

After that, Scott doesn’t reply for a few minutes. Neither does Stiles’ dad, but he’s probably busy trying to compose a text without having it messed up by Autocorrect. 

Stiles to Scott: Dude?

Stiles to Scott: Scott? Are you ok??? You’re not answering?

Stiles to Scott: Shit, is there something wrong with my phone?

Stiles to Scott: Oh god, has something happened????? I’M WORRIED!

Then, his phone rings. Scott’s calling. Why would Scott be calling him?  
“Yeah?”  
“Dude. Stiles. You seriously need to relax. When you say you were sure he hated you, I assumed he’d basically spat in your face or something. So maybe he doesn’t talk that much, what’s the big deal?” Scott sounds just the tiniest bit exasperated and Stiles gets offended.  
“Are you trying to insinuate that I’m exaggerating?” He snaps at Scott.  
“Well, yeah” Scott says. “I don’t freaking exaggerate! That’s just not something I do!” Stiles exclaims and gets nothing but a tired laugh from Scott.  
“Buddy, you might wanna re-read that text-conversation. Also, Allison says hi. Also, I’m hanging up now. Talk to you soon.”  
“Wait, no, Scott! I need you to talk to me! Derek won’t, my dad’s busy, I need to fill my daily quota of conversation, it’s vitally-“ It beeps in his hear. Scott’s hung up on him. 

Stiles pouts.

~~

Derek flees to his room. He can’t take the big, expectant eyes with which Stiles is looking at him. He looks like freaking Bambi. He’s just going to be horrified at Derek’s Derekness and he’s probably going to cry. God, Derek hates making people cry. He doesn’t do it on purpose. He’s just not good with people. 

“LAURA!” He basically yells down the phone when his sister picks up.  
“Oh, if that ain’t my darling brother’s sweet, sweet voice. What can I do for you, honey?” Laura drawls, her tone dripping sarcasm.  
“I can’t keep the roommate, how can I get rid of him?” He can hear that he sounds embarrassingly panicky.  
“Whoa, ok, Derek, listen” Laura says and yeah, she’s picked up on his distress, too, because all the mocking is gone from her voice.  
“Is there anything actually wrong with him? Like, are you scared he’s gonna molest you in your sleep or eat your imaginary guinea pig?” she asks, and her voice sounds surprisingly gently for such a stupid question. 

“What? No, obviously not. He’s just. He’s young and probably wants to be my friend and talk to me about his job and hear me talk about my job and I really, really can’t handle that! He’s just going to realize that I wrote a stupid book that no adult should take seriously and then he’s going to judge my intellect and, you know, he’d be right to!” Derek’s out of breath by the time he’s finished with his tiny speech and Laura is quiet for a few seconds. 

“Sweetheart, calm down. Breathe, ok? Can you focus on your breath for me? Just in, and out.” Derek tries to calm down, tries to not hyperventilate and after a minute or two, he’s calmer. 

Laura has kept quiet on the other end of the line, but when she hears his breathing going back to normal, she starts up again.  
“Derek, try to stay calm, but this is exactly why mom and I wanted you to have an apartment mate. You really haven’t been in company much, lately. Going to the gym doesn’t count. I know you’re introverted, but still, seeing people, talking to people, that’s healthy.”  
Derek takes several deep breaths. 

“Listen, I know you guys only want what’s best for me. But I just, I can’t deal with people. I mean, he probably already thinks I hate him”, he finally says. He’s ashamed of himself. He’s a freaking adult. Talking to people shouldn’t be so damn difficult. It should come naturally. 

But he can just see Stiles’ face when he’d kept asking Derek questions and gotten nothing but one-word-answers. He’s messed things up already. He probably hates Derek for hating him for no reason. 

“I want you to buy him dinner. Tonight.”  
“No, Laura, I can’t! Didn’t you freaking listen? I don’t want him in my life so he can-“ judge me, Derek thinks.  
“Baby, you’re buying him dinner. He’s gonna love you for that. Just try to be nice. You don’t have to talk to him if it makes you uncomfortable. But he might surprise you. You might surprise yourself, in fact. Please, just try it, Derek?” Laura’s pleading now and fuck, he just can’t argue with her pleading voice.  
“Fine. But what if-“ “Nope. No what if. Just do it” Laura interrupts him.  
Derek swallows heavily. He nods his head ok, even though Laura can’t see it.  
“I’ll talk to you later, then. Tell me how it went.” And why is Laura so excited about this. 

She shouldn’t be. 

~~

There’s a knock on the door of Stiles’ room. Oh god. Has Derek come to kill him? He does have a bit of a serial killer look. 

Shit. 

What if that’s what Derek does? Lure his victims into his nice apartment and then chop them up? Stiles doesn’t want to be chopped up. 

Another knock, less hesitant. 

“Yeah?” Stiles says out loud and looks at the objects he can reach that he could defend himself with. Well, there’s a lamp. Not even Dobby managed to punish himself with a lamp. 

Derek opens the door and stands in the doorway. His shoulders look stiff and he seems so self-conscious and awkward that Stiles is pretty sure he’s not going to be killed tonight.  
“Uh… I was, I was going to order food, do you, uh, want some?” 

There’s a slight stutter in his voice and honestly, Stiles wants to hug him. Derek’s not a serial killer who hates his guts. He’s shy. 

The realization makes Stiles smile brightly. Derek doesn’t look shy. He looks fucking I can lift you with my eyebrows because they have muscles badass. Also, he's hot like burning. 

And then, inside, he’s shy. Like a child. No, Stiles does not want to tuck Derek into bed and make him hot cocoa. He just has a thing for shy people, okay? So sue him. Other people want to get fucked by a horse, Stiles wants to protect. That’s just fine. 

“That sounds great, what are you getting?” He asks and gets off his bed.  
Derek looks simultaneously relieved and disappointed.  
“Uh… I… I don’t know?” he says and sounds so insecure. Shit, how did Stiles misread him so badly? He really needs to sit his inner judge of human behavior down and have a long and serious talk. 

“Ok. How about Pizza? Pizza is the moving day food!” Stiles has had several moving days already, technically. But fuck it, he arrived today. He’s totally allowed to have pizza.  
“Sure. Um. What kind of pizza do you want, I’ll order for us.”

So Derek orders them pizza. He does it in his room, door closed, but Stiles is feeling really warmly towards him right now. Not only because Derek is about to buy him pizza. 

~~

When the pizzas arrive, he and Stiles eat on the couch together. Fuck eating at a table. Derek is mostly quiet. He’s kind of uncomfortable. Stiles seems so nice and actually, Stiles tries to talk to him like he genuinely likes Derek, which frankly freaks him out. He’s not likable. He’s quiet and broody and sometimes, he spends days in bed, doing absolutely nothing, forgetting to eat, just to avoid human interaction. 

He’s a weird, possibly sick person. A sweet, excitable guy like Stiles shouldn’t like him. 

But the more Stiles babbles on, about his job at Ottendorfer, the library he’s going to work in, about his dad, the Sheriff of the small town he comes from, his best friend, who will probably propose to his girlfriend; the more Derek feels at ease.  
When they’re almost done with their pizza, Stiles is quiet, savoring his last piece. 

“I… I haven’t had pizza in a really long time” Derek admits quietly. Stiles’ eyes snap up to meet his. He looks shocked and hurt. 

“But it’s pizza, Derek. Greasy, gorgeous goddess of the Food That Will Kill You” He sounds solemn and dramatic and Derek rolls his eyes.  
“I do this kind of healthy diet, you know. Mostly protein, really.”  
“Yeah, well, I don’t. You should have cheat days, Derek. It’s pizza, I mean, look at the happiness it gives me.”  
He takes a huge bite out of his last piece, chews slowly, closes his eyes and there’s a blissed out look on his face. 

Derek just rolls his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://sterekandstuffbutmostlystuff.tumblr.com If you say hi, I will cry. Also, this work will be a nightmare when it comes to the formatting and stuff because I suck. sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. ALL comments are appreciated (except for incoherent yelling because that shit ain't helpful).   
> if you talk to me on tumblr, I will smile and then cry. Seriously.  
> http://sterekandstuffbutmostlystuff.tumblr.com/


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